


A Tale of Two Strangers

by JensenAckles13



Category: Avengers, Frostiron - Fandom, Marvel
Genre: Angst probably, As in no superheroes, But they're cute so it's okay, Fluff, Howard's A+ Parenting, Loki hates dogs, M/M, Odin's A+ Parenting, Oh and Tony has dog, One of them works in a coffee shop if that counts, Shyish Tony Stark, Smut, They're both stupid assholes, kind of but not really, normal life AU, sort of a coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:44:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2706125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JensenAckles13/pseuds/JensenAckles13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki Laufeyson: AKA, rich asshole from London. Tony Stark: AKA, rich asshole from New York. <br/>With an awkward first meeting and free coffee begins the relationship of one Loki Laufeyson and Tony Stark. Enter matchmaker Natasha and wingman/science bro Bruce and you've got love waiting to happen. Of course, things don't go as smoothly as planned for the maybe couple and then it's no longer Loki and Tony standing in their own way, but everything and everyone else</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Laughter at First Sight

When Loki awoke to delighted laughter floating in through his open window, he didn't think much of it. In fact, he assumed it must have been the children next door playing outside. It took him much longer than he'd ever admit _(though, in his defense, it was barely dawn)_ to realize that there _weren't_ any children next door, and that the only occupant living next door was a man in his early thirties that he hadn't ever spoken to.

Of course, this peaked his interest and he slipped from his warm bed, grabbing his robe from the bathroom door and wrapping it around himself as he went. He stepped out the glass doors and onto his balcony, squinting his eyes against the too bright, early morning sun, in an attempt to see into the backyard next door.

Nothing that looked even remotely fun was going on: the man with the strange glowing circle in his chest was simply raking the mid-autumn leaves, nothing that accounted for the laughter he'd heard naught five minutes earlier. 

A dog- a large, black and white Husky, to be exact- darted out from beneath the other mans balcony, tripping over its own feet as it went and scrambling back up like nothing had happened. It must have been a puppy. Even Loki had to admit it was slightly _(slightly, he said, as he was more of a cat person)_ adorable.   
A moment later, however, he understood why the man next door had been laughing as if he was having the time of his life...in his large backyard with his dog _(puppy)_.

The _man (whose name Loki had never heard, as the man had just moved in last week, though really, that was no excuse for not going over to say hello and welcome the man to the neighborhood)_ had just finished raking his leaves into a large pile and, after dropping the rake onto the grass beneath his feet, backed up to the edge of the patio beneath his balcony and took off running at his leaf pile and then dove into it with another round of laughing. The dog joined him shortly, diving head first into the man’s lap with a happy yip and the mad wagging of his tail.

Loki stared in open-mouthed shock, watching as the man rolled out of the pile, leaves sticking to his back and hair, raked up the pile and then jumped in it again like a child would do after their parents had finished an hour of raking.

Loki couldn't help but chuckle at the childlike glee on the man’s face as he rolled in the large leaf pile with his large dog, who looked positively delighted, like he was rolling around in a pile of meat instead and someone had told him he could have it all.

His own quiet chuckle apparently hadn't been as quiet as he'd hoped and both the mans and the dogs heads snapped up to look at him, the dogs ears perking and the man’s cheeks reddening as he realized he'd been caught _(likely, he'd been hoping that he'd woken up early enough that no one else would be up as well)_. The man quickly rolled out of his leaf pile and picked up the rake once more, eyes leaving Loki's as quickly as they'd found them, raking the leaves back into a sloppy pile and throwing the rake in the shed before walking with the hastiness and shame of a child who had been caught with their hand in a cookie jar back beneath the balcony. A moment later, Loki heard the telltale sliding sound of a door opening.   
  
"Rocket!" the man called and the dog, which had remained behind in the leaf pile, gazing up at Loki with his ears perked and his head cocked, took off after his master. The door slid and shut once more, leaving Loki with a smile on his face and a warmth in his heart (next to the initial surprise) because really, how long had it been since he'd seen anyone do that, no matter the age? It had certainly been too long; it was something he vaguely remembered doing as a child with his older brother, but that had been ages ago, while things were still moving smoothly between Loki and his family.

 _No_ , he chided himself. _None of that_.

Shaking his head, he made his way back inside to shower. Normally, he wouldn’t have woken until eight _(when his alarm went off so he could be at work by nine)_ but it would appear that the man next door had other plans. No matter. Loki could admit that he had been rather delighted to witness what he had. It had been heartwarming and had made his early morning rise more tolerable, even enjoyable, he would say. Not to anyone else, but to himself surely.

Making his way to the bathroom, he shed his robe and sweatpants before turning on the water, waiting for it to warm before stepping beneath the spray, tipping his head back into it with a content sigh. He stayed like that for a while before deciding he should probably get out _(he couldn’t be late to work, especially not during the holiday seasons)_ and quickly washing his body and hair, rising just as quickly before stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist, running another through his hair as he set off to find something to wear. He settled on a comfortable forest green pull-over sweatshirt and black jeans.   
After he’d dressed himself, he wandered into the kitchen, relishing in the warmth the sunlight gave the house through the windows, and made himself a cup of coffee _(with cream and sugar, of course)_. Toast with jam came next, and he plopped himself down comfortably in the plush leather chair by the window in the living room where he could sit with just the right amount of sunlight warming him without it blinding him. He grabbed up his worn, dog-eared and scribbled in copy of _The Great Gatsby_ and read and ate until it was time for him to leave for work nearly an hour later.

The coffee shop wasn’t far from home and traffic wasn’t particularly bad.   
Walking inside, he saw Natasha was already there, her unruly red curls bright against the black long sleeve she chose that day.

“Good morning, Natasha,” he said with a cheery smile as he flipped the sign on the door to ‘Open’ and pulled his apron over his head, nametag already attached.

“Morning, Loki,” she replied and plopped herself down on the counter. “So. That new guy who moved in next to you is kinda cute,” she said conversationally, head tilted and green eyes wide and innocent.   
Loki narrowed his eyes.

“How do you know someone moved in next door to me?” he asked, arms folding over his chest. “Have you been following me again?”

She snorted. “No, I have not been following you again. You can’t even prove it was me who let that dog loose in your house. The guy has been coming in here every morning since he moved in.”

“So, what, all four days?”

“Yep. He’s some rich asshole from New York.”

“You thought _I_ was some rich asshole too, Natasha.”

“Well, yeah, everyone who gets a beach house is a rich asshole. But you’re a nice asshole from London: besides, that accent of yours makes everything you say sound less asshole-y.”

Loki snorted and was about to reply when the bell rang, signaling someone was coming in.   
Sighing internally, he turned with a perfected smile plastered on his face, but said smile morphed into a true one when he saw it was none other than his neighbor enter and freeze rather abruptly. The only reason Loki recognized him was the glowing circle in his chest, seeing as how that wasn’t anything like a common occurrence, well, anywhere. Yes, as it turned out, Natasha was right. He was rather…cute. He looked to be in his early thirties, skin golden and naturally tanned. He had a neatly trimmed beard to go along with his neatly trimmed chocolate colored hair. His eyes already had little wrinkles around them, barely noticeable, and Loki was unable to tell whether that was from stress or smiling often. He wasn’t tall, but he wasn’t short either, standing around perhaps six feet, maybe an inch or two less. He wore black sunglasses with red colored lenses, and a Black Sabbath tee shirt, clearly worn and well used, and dark jeans, equally worn and used. On his feet, he wore oil stained work boots _(odd, the man didn’t look to be a mechanic, especially if he was living in a beach house)_.

“Hello,” Loki said with a brilliant smile, and the man returned it with a shy but dimpled one of his own.

“Hi. Um, I’ll just take a black coffee. Large.” He took out his wallet and pulled out two ten dollar bills, throwing them down on the countertop next to the spot where Natasha still had her ass planted.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. It’s on the house,” Loki said, smile never faltering as he stepped behind the counter to make the man his coffee.   
The man just nodded and took up the bills again, stuffing them in the tip jar like he had no better use of them. If what Natasha said was correct _(though he was seriously doubting that having met the man…unofficially)_ then he likely didn’t.   
Making his way around the counter once more, Loki handed the man his coffee.

“You haven’t been here the last few days,” the man blurted, and then looked horrified with himself. “I mean, I didn’t know you worked here and…” The man paused and shook his head, clearly realizing he’d dug himself into a deeper hole. “You haven’t been here the last few days and I was wondering if you’re going to be here the next few because you’re kind of cute and now I’ll actually have a reason to come here, a real reason, not just because I’m too lazy to set up my coffee machine.” Loki blinked at the frankness, and felt a slow smile begin to pull up the corners of his lips.

“I’ve been sick,” was all the answer he gave to the babbling man.

“Right. Thanks.” The man turned and hurried to leave, his cheeks tinged pink, likely remembering their…slightly awkward meeting earlier, if it could even be considered a meeting.  

“Wait,” Loki called just as the man opened the door, causing him to pause halfway through and turn to face Loki. “I don’t recall catching your name, and I certainly can’t continue calling you ‘the man’ or ‘neighbor’.”

“Tony,” the man said, a smile quirking his lips. “Tony Stark.”   
And then he was gone.


	2. A Confusing Day

Tony Stark came in to the coffee shop every day and Loki could’ve sworn that the strange man had a different pair of sunglasses with their odd colored lenses each one of those days. One day they’d be purple, the next orange or perhaps blue. And each day, the sunglasses were coordinated to match whatever he’d chosen to wear that day.

“Good morning,” Tony said as he came in for his morning coffee. Another thing; the man was punctual. He came in at the same time each day, 9:15 a.m., and ordered the same thing, though Loki supposed that was what most people did when they liked something.   
Loki already had the coffee ready. Tony set a ten dollar bill on the counter with a smile and a wink.   
“Keep the change,” the man said, just as he had for the past four days.

“Come now, if you keep this up you won’t have any money left,” he teased, a smile lighting his features.   
Tony laughed and Loki discovered, not for the first time, that he enjoyed Tony’s laugh more than he thought he could possibly enjoy another man’s laugh. It wasn’t necessarily the fact that it was a cute laugh _(and it certainly was)_ , but more because it was a _true_ laugh. And slightly adorable, but he wouldn’t get into details. When Tony laughed, his nose would wrinkle adorably and he’d squeeze his eyes shut, dimples completely lighting his features. And then his head would duck slightly before he’d throw it back, and Loki wondered if that was how the man laughed for everyone, or just him.   
As Tony walked out the door, he called behind him,

“See you tomorrow, Loki!”   
Loki smiled fondly after him and shook his head, gazing down at the ten dollar bill before putting it in the register.

“You like him,” Natasha spoke up suddenly, gazing at him with her sharp green eyes _(that were more amused than her face let on)_.

“I do not,” he said defensively because he certainly did not _like_ Tony Stark. Enjoyed his company and his laugh, perhaps, but he did not like the man. Not how Natasha was thinking, at least.

“You really are a terrible liar.”

“I am not,” he replied even as he folded the leftover bills into his pocket.

“You really are,” Natasha disagreed immediately, an amused, slightly wicked and somewhat gentle look in her eyes. Loki had discovered that was, perhaps, how she looked at people she would consider friends, seeing as how when she had first met Stark, she’d stared him down like a predator observing its prey.   
Before Loki could protest, the door swung open, making the annoying bell ring until the damn door closed.

“Hey Nat?” the stranger in the purple shirt asked.

“I already told you, I’m _not_ going to that ridiculous gala with you!” she said in exasperation, throwing her hands in the air like she’d already discussed this many, _many_ times with him.

“Oh, c’mon!” the man whined, jumping up and settling his ass on the counter as if it belonged there.

“Clint, we’ve talked about this. At least seventeen times.”

“ _Pleaaaaase?_ ”

“Pardon me,” Loki cut in. “But what gala are you begging this woman to go with you to?”   
Clint huffed but answered obligingly.

“One of the charity gala’s that Stark Industries hosts every year. They actually do a lot of them.”

“Stark…?” Loki asked, raising a brow.

“Yeah, that’s sort of what I just said?” Clint replied questioningly, giving Loki this “are you stupid or should I just speak slower?” look.

“Tony is his not-boyfriend,” Natasha supplied rather unhelpfully. Clint turned wide eyes back onto Loki.

“You’re almost dating Tony Stark?!” he exclaimed, looking about two seconds away from jumping up and down and squealing.

“No!” Loki protested immediately. It was just coffee and friendly conversation. And sometimes flirtatious looks. And maybe unresolved sexual tension. But that was it. Besides, the man was borderline infuriating and completely narcissistic.  Loki would never date someone who thought _(perhaps literally)_ that the world revolved around them.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Clint said, unimpressed.

“That’s what I said,” Natasha agreed, smiling smugly at Loki.   
Loki huffed and threw his towel onto the ground, stomping over to one of the oversized, puffy purple chairs and plopping down in it.  
“Ooh, you’re so cute when you pout,” Natasha said, a smile still in her voice. “You’re just upset because your boyfriend hasn’t asked you to come with him yet.”  
 _Hm, yes, why_ hasn’t _Stark asked me yet?_  
Loki blinked and shook his head, shaking the thought away. There was no possible way to know that Tony _would_ ask him.   
_But_ , he thought, shrugging to himself. _Life has a way of making things work out. And if this doesn’t work out, it was never meant to be_.   
Ha, as if he’d ever believed that.

*

The next hours inched by just as slowly and agonizingly as they always did and he played his part just as well as he normally did; smile, take the order of the customer, engage in friendly conversation while making their coffee, bid them farewell, repeat. Today, there had been a rather nasty man who’d insisted Natasha sleep with him, and even offered her money to do so when she refused. His girlfriend had been standing beside him, sneering at Natasha as if she had some obligation to _sleep with her boyfriend_ , as if it was a completely normal thing to do. It was the terribly inappropriate groping of her breasts that finally did it.  Both Clint _(who’d stayed the rest of the day)_ and Loki had been prepared to kick the sorry son of a bitches ass, but Natasha had been the one to do it; one well aimed punch to the jaw and an extremely painful looking heeled boot to the groin and both he and his girlfriend had left with the knowledge that the cops would be called immediately if they ever came back…once Natasha had finished with them. They didn’t return that day.

Loki collapsed on the couch when he returned home, debating taking a shower to rid of the coffee smell but decided against it; today had been a long day, much longer than usual _(or so it seemed)_ but then, he supposed it was mostly his own fault, and maybe a bit of Natasha and Clint’s. He’d spent the day pondering _why_ Stark hadn’t asked him, why he _wanted_ Stark to ask him and whether or not Stark _would_ ask him.   
And then he’d mentally slapped himself for being so ridiculous and got back to work.

So here he was now, acting as if he’d just run a marathon, staring out the rather large window at the beach; it would have made a gorgeous photo. The sun was just beginning to set, casting everything in hues of reds, pinks and oranges. The impossibly blue water was lapping gently at the golden sand, white foam stretching up whenever the water did. It was much too tempting.   
Changing out of his work clothes and into jeans and a simple emerald button up, he went downstairs and through his backyard, loving the feel of the grass beneath his feet, and opened the gate in his fence that led to the beach. Stepping into the soft sand was much better than the squishiness of the damp grass. It was peaceful, quiet. No one was out, as it was so late. Walking closer to the ocean, he absently noted the sound of a dog barking in the distance but didn’t pay much attention to it. Not bothering to roll up his jeans and immensely grateful for his choice to forgo shoes, he stepped into the water; it was cold, but not cold enough to shock and it felt absolutely wonderful. Closing his eyes, he took everything in- the wind brushing his hair back gently from his shoulders, the smell of salt in the air, the soft sound of the waves touching the sand, the cool of the water around his ankles. He wiggled his toes a bit, burying them in the sand with a content smile. This was why he’d moved here those four years ago.

The dog barked again, much closer this time, followed by someone yelling, making Loki’s eyes pop open. That, however, was _not_ why he moved here.   
Looking around for whoever had interrupted his peace, he spotted two shadowed figures, one a person and the other a dog. The dog was running forward, towards Loki like his life depended on it, tripping over its own feet while the man, who was quite a ways back, was running just as quickly after the dog, yelling “Rocket, get back here you bastard!” and flailing his arms a bit. It took an embarrassingly long about of time to realize that the dog was not going to stop when he got to Loki. So embarrassingly long, in fact, that he hadn’t any time to react before he was barreled into by the dog. His arms wind-milling, he was unable to stop himself from falling on his ass in the water and sand. With an indignant yelp, he jumped up and away from the water because it was _certainly_ colder when it was touching anything but his feet. The dog yipped happily and ran circles around Loki. It took a moment to realize just _whose_ dog that was; Tony Stark’s. _Of course_ it had to be his. The devil himself came running up a moment later, huffing and puffing as if he’d been chasing Rocket around for hours.

“Shit,” the man huffed. “I’m sorry. Damn dog took off as soon as we got here.” Tony clapped him on the shoulder in apology before seeming to realize who he was “Oh! Loki, hey.” The man laughed at his own stupidity. “Long time no see, eh?” He winked.

“Hello, Tony,” Loki responded in greeting, smiling at the man because _dammit_ , he was too adorable not to. Rocket was sitting at Loki’s side contently, as if his life’s work had just been completed. Looking suspiciously at the dog, Loki continued, “What are you doing out here so late?”

“Late?” The man laughed again. “It’s only, like, eight o’clock!” And okay, Loki supposed that wasn’t really late at all. “To answer your question, though, I come out here every night. It’s…quiet. And Rocket loves to run…he also loves the water so really, the beach is a great place for him. Question is, though, what are _you_ doing out here?”

“Same as you,” Loki replied. “It’s quiet…peaceful.”   
Tony nodded in understanding and watched Rocket for a moment before turning his eyes to Loki.

“So….I’m sure you’ve heard by now, but I’m hosting a charity gala. I’m not sure what charity it’s for, ‘cause my CEO makes all the plans and she would kill me if I didn’t do at least one a year, but I was wondering if you wanted to come with me? We could go as a couple or just as friends, you know, whatever you’d prefer.” Tony actually sounded _nervous_ , like he had the first time they’d met and, from what Loki had learned of the man the past four days, it was beyond odd.   
Here it was, the big question and here _Loki_ was, staring like an idiot because he hadn’t a clue what to say.

“I….” Loki began, but trailed off, still unsure of what his answer would be.

“I understand,” Tony said immediately, looking rather put out. “I know, I’m sort of a narcissistic asshole. Well, I guess if you change your mind, it’s not until Saturday and you know where I live.” The man gazed at the ground for a moment, something almost….regretful passing through his deep brown gaze before he looked at Loki again and smiled, all traces of anything other than happiness disappearing just as fast as they’d come.   
“Rocket!” the man yelled and the dog in question, who was busy playing in the water, tilted his head up and ran back over to Tony.   
The pair left then, and Loki let them, watching as they went through the fence to Tony’s house and wondering silently just how badly he’d messed things up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I realize I said this chapter would be posted soon and that this is definitely NOT soon, but it's finally here. Sorry about the long wait- I hope you enjoy!   
> Also, these adorable assholes can be pretty big idiots sometimes, so bear with me


	3. Our Coffee Shop

Of course he knew where Tony Stark lived; not only for the fact that they lived right next door to each other, but because honestly, who _didn’t_ know where Tony Stark lived?

After having gone home from the beach, pondering Tony’s words and that look he got and ignoring the fact that Tony was so damn _hard_ to understand, he’d done a bit of research on his own and really, Tony Stark was _everywhere_. They had fan-clubs and websites and honestly, it was a wonder Loki had never heard of him. _Everyone_ had heard of him, it seemed. Supposedly, Tony Stark was a genius billionaire who created weapons for his company, up until last year for some unknown reason after he’d emerged from captivity after three long months of nothing, where the world thought he was dead. And then his big comeback had set off an entirely new chain of fan-clubs and websites, after his admission to being Ironman. Clicking on a video taken by an amateur cameraman _(he must’ve been new- he couldn’t steady the damn camera!)_ , he sat quietly and curiously, watching Tony Stark’s stumbling words.

The man was fiddling with a small stack of note cards, gazing at the crowd of people he was safely separated from by the podium in front of him.

“I’m just not the hero type. Clearly, with this laundry list of character defects, all the mistakes I’ve made; it’s largely public. Yeah, okay, yeah….The truth is…is…..” The Tony onscreen trailed off, his eyes darting off to the side and Loki barely heard the whispered “stick to the cards” from someone he couldn’t see.  Tony straightened up, broadened his shoulders and stared straight at the camera before him, saying calmly;

“I am Ironman.”

The camera shook and was knocked in every direction at the admission, voices shouting over each other, bodies pressing forward, cameras flashing and Loki clicked on the screen, pausing the video. Ironman? Loki had heard of him, of course. _Everyone_ had. He was the rouge superhero, borne from captivity and molded by torture. But this? The Tony Stark who came to the same coffee shop every day and bought the same coffee each time as an excuse to see Loki? That was not the Tony he knew. Given, he hadn’t known him for long, but the Tony _he_ knew wasn’t a superhero. He was just…Tony. Intelligent, witty, sarcastic Tony, but Tony nonetheless. He wasn’t…a weapons monger, or a superhero. He was just…a person. Yes, of course he knew that weapons mongers and superheroes were people but they were _different_ somehow. They were…above the rest, not _with_ them, not mingling and flirting and going to galas with them. Or, well, hosting galas with them. It was preposterous, the thought of Tony being Ironman. Of course, no matter how much he didn’t believe it, there was the one screaming thing he didn’t dare ignore; the glowing circle in Tony’s chest certainly looked a lot like the one in the chest of the Ironman suit.

And so it was, Tony Stark was a superhero. A genius, billionaire, philanthropist superhero, but a hero nonetheless. It was…well, Loki wasn’t entirely sure what it was. Unbelievable? Amazing? Shocking? Incredible? There were many, many words Loki could use to describe his shock, but not a single negative word had the pleasure of being written on his mental list. Perhaps….yes. He would go to Stark’s gala with him.   
Decision having been made, he went off to get himself ready for bed, deciding he would wait until Tony came the next morning to the coffee shop and tell him then.

*

Except, Tony _didn’t_ come the next morning to the coffee shop.   
It wouldn’t have been a big deal, except it was because Tony had been coming to the coffee shop without fail for the past days since he’d moved in and there was the possibility that something bad had happened; maybe he’d been in a car accident on his way here or maybe he just hadn’t wanted to see Loki after his rather rude confrontation on the beach, and no Loki was not worried, he was simply trying to figure out what reason Tony could _possibly_ have for not coming this morning. That was all.

Natasha, of course, sensed something was desperately wrong when she “didn’t see you ogling Stark this morning- where is he?” He’d simply laughed and denied that he had never ogled Tony; it was more of a…polite stare.

And then Tony _did_ come in. In the middle of the afternoon, around one o’clock when no one came for coffee anyways. And he had his arm slung around redheaded woman’s slim waist, laughing happily at something she had said. His hair was rumpled, his suit jacket was unbuttoned, and he had a dark bruise forming just over his pulse point ( _as if someone had suckled at the skin there, his mind so happily supplied)_.

Loki felt his heart sink but he didn’t say anything; no, he smiled a strained smile, got Tony his usual and turned to the woman.

“Hello, Miss. What can I get for you?”

“Got any booze?” she asked and then giggled and by god, she was drunk. Stark had actually brought a drunk woman into the coffee shop. His coffee shop. _Their_ coffee shop.

“No,” he responded icily, surprising Tony and perhaps even himself.

“Christ, Lokes. What the hell?” Tony asked, eyes wide and surprised.

“Is that _really_ all you’ve got to say for yourself right now? You bring this _drunk_ woman into our coffee shop, after having asked me _last night_ to go to your ridiculous gala? After you’ve been flirting with me for days? After you showed me _all the signs_ that you _liked_ me? You have the audacity to bring this _woman_ here after all you have done to show me you would like _more_ than simple coffee with me?” Loki is well aware he is acting like a child, but he couldn’t care less. That Stark _dared_ do this-

“ _Our_ coffee shop?” Stark asked quietly, surprise written in his every feature, but something else, too, something almost like _guilt_.

“ _Yes_ , Stark,” Loki snapped. “ _Ours_. Clearly, I misjudged that, however. And that can be entirely blamed on you, you insolent, ignorant, asshole of a-”

He didn’t get any farther before Tony surged across the counter top, took Loki’s face in his hands, and kissed him like his life depended on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, I know its been a long time and I know it's short and I'm sorry but I had to update something

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, I hope you guys like it! This is my first...domestic frostiron fic, so I hope it's not too terrible


End file.
